


Corrupted Shields

by BlakeCorman



Category: Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, My Little Pony, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Power Rangers
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Anthropomorphic, Crossover, Dark, Death, F/F, F/M, Science Fiction, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 08:08:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30069228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlakeCorman/pseuds/BlakeCorman
Summary: Lord Drakkon has seen the stars and captured them in his iron grip. Worlds have fallen to his power, power great enough to attract the attention of even more powerful beings. As one such being approaches him with a business proposal, the conqueror of worlds thinks back to another time. A time before Lord Drakkon, before the people of so many worlds bowed in his presence. A time when his name was Kyle Fawkes...





	1. Any Place But Home

Why? Why did I take it? A question that had burned for ages within the mind of Lord Drakkon, and one he would ask himself for even more decades to come. Why did I choose to leave home? Why did I let myself become Displaced? Why, _why, WHY!?_ The man put the white knuckles of his glove against the side of his white and gold helmet. How long had it been since he’d actually felt the material against his skin? He gave a quiet sigh and looked back towards the brown coated, weaselly figure that stood before him.

He was only half listening as the being, a Displacer, tried to convince him of some hair-brained endeavor. Something about another ranger and a… navigator? Drakkon just gave another small sigh and kept the red visor of his helmet trained on the figure as he let his eyes take on a bored expression.

 _I’ve already conquered hundreds of worlds,_ he thought impatiently to himself. _What’s two “heroes” to me?_ He chuckled at that as his mind went back to a time he had tried to be a hero himself. _How stupid._ He frowned. Of all the worlds he had taken, there was one he couldn’t find. The only one he truly wanted above all else. His thoughts drifted, drowning out the fool in front of him even further until he was back, long before this whole “Displaced” business started….

* * *

Power Morphicon 2016. Kyle Fawkes walked the aisles with a bored expression on his face as his little sister ooo’d and aah’d at everything in sight. How a little ten-year-old girl could be so into Power Rangers was beyond him. He calmly readjusted the blue and white letterman that he’d gotten for playing wide receiver as he waded through the crowd after his sister. The teen thought back to why he was here but quickly dismissed the thought.

 _He’s getting help,_ he thought to himself. _Just hold out for another month or so, and everything will be okay._ Kyle came back to his senses just in time to see his little sister, Kira, run around yet another booth in the crowded hall. The young man rolled his blue eyes and hurried after his sister, not wanting her to get out of his sight _again_. He caught up just in time to find the young girl frozen in place and staring.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to run off like that, Kira?” He questioned, coming up behind her and putting a hand on her shoulder, only to be surprised as the girl latched onto him, giving small whimpers. The teen rolled his eyes again and sighed. “What's wrong now?” He questioned with the slightest bit of irritation in his voice.

The little girl only responded by pointing down the mostly empty lane. Kyle looked up and followed the direction of her finger to find a young man dressed up in a yellow and black costume talking to a vendor dressed as some sort of bug sporting a ragged brown cloak. Kyle watched them for a second before looking down at his sister. “What’s wrong with you?” He asked. “It’s just a couple people in costumes.”

The girl only shivered and pointed to the young man in the black and yellow costume. “That’s a Psycho Ranger….” Kyle’s look only became more confused as he looked down at his sister, his eyes rising to look at the man. Now that he took a closer look, the young man was probably closer to his own age, if not a year or two older than him, and the armor he wore did have a distinctly more… angry, more twisted look to it than many of the other cosplays he had seen throughout the day. Shifting his gaze, he looked at the person behind the table, a merchant of some kind, as they handed a wrapped bundle of some sort to the blonde cosplayer.

Kyle felt his body give an involuntary shudder. There was a sort of… shrewd aura to him, something that just wasn’t right. The athlete watched as the other young man unwrapped the cloth and start as he unwrapped a helmet. The gray-eyed cosplayer never looked up as he spoke a few words to the merchant who was slowly beginning to raise his hand and fingers. The young man looked up and said something else only to be cut off by the seller’s snapping fingers. The costumed man’s eyes drifted closed and he began to tilt backward falling straight through a hole that seemed to carve itself out of thin air.

The portal swallowed the young man and closed as quickly as it had opened, Kyle’s eyes widening at what he had just witnessed. “What the…?” He trailed off, trying to step forward, only to be halted as his little sister held onto him, face buried in his t-shirt. The young man sighed and put a hand on Kira’s back. “You can look now, the psycho or whatever is gone.” _Somehow…._

The girl looked up and turned slowly to see the vendor quickly taking things off his table and storing them away. The little girl seemed to give a breath of relief and let go of him even as Kyle watched the merchant with weary eyes. “Stay here,” he commanded, moving around her before looking back and pointing a finger at her. “I mean it this time, _stay here.”_ Without waiting for a response, Kyle turned back to see the man almost done putting stuff away, a single roll cart remaining. The college student hurried forward, catching the man just as he was starting to walk away. “Hey,” he said, coming to a stop behind the costumed vendor.

The man turned to look at him before seeming to grow a mite taller than him. “What?” The merchant asked, his voice impatient and harsh.

“What did you do to that guy?” The sportsman questioned, undeterred by the taller man’s glare. “One minute he was standing here and the next minute you give him a helmet, snap your fingers, and poof! He’s gone.”

“I don’t have time for this,” the merchant growled, starting to turn away.

“Wait!” Kyle exclaimed, grabbing the figure’s shoulders only to jerk back as the vendor whirled around to face him. “Just… wait…. Could you…” he paused and looked back towards his little sister for a moment before giving a sigh and turning back. “Could you do the same for me?”

A very inhuman growl met his request, the looming being stepping towards him, making him step back. “Listen, _kid,”_ the merchant spat, any form of politeness or calm he might have had shriveling up. “I do _not_ have time for you! I’ve got bigger fish to fry, much-needed plans to enact, so, if you do not mind… back. _Off!”_ Kyle took another step back as the vendor whirled back around angrily and strode off quickly.

The young man merely stood where he was debating on whether or not he should follow the strange merchant, or simply go back to watching his sister. At the thought, he turned to look at her, only to sigh and put his hand over his eyes. Sliding his fingers down his face, he walked back towards the crowd of people, once again prepared to track down his sibling.

* * *

August 3, 2017, found Kyle Fawkes once more on his computer, typing furiously as he browsed the internet looking for the site he needed. “Ah-ha!” He exclaimed as he came across what he was looking for; the Power Morphicon home page. The young man had spent the last year trying to prep for this event, and for only one reason. He wanted to be Displaced.

After his encounter at the convention center, the college athlete had spent all his time trying to figure out what he had seen. He had eventually come across web articles and stories about people, usually in costume, being snatched up and disappearing at these conventions. He’d also come across an article about a stunt pilot going missing after a crash, but paid it no mind. With his discovery came a new idea, and with that a plan.

He’d spent what he could of his free time watching videos and buying up materials for DIY projects. The young man glanced over his shoulder at the completed work that he had chosen to be Displaced as. The green, white, and gold armor of Boom Studio’s Lord Drakkon hung on the inside of his open closet doors, the helmet, boots, and gloves sitting on a shelf within the closet. He had taken more than a few liberties in the design, giving it a bit of an upgraded look than that of the comics. He’d taken inspiration from both the armored look of the 1995 movie and the designs of the Super Power Beat Down web series, giving the suit a more reinforced and decorative look. He’d added a bit of green padding to the shoulders underneath the main chest shield, lining the padding in gold that seemed to connect to the gold armbands, said bands now sporting narrow strips of green along the top and bottom. Gold lining ran from the underarm straps of the chest piece, rounding out along the sides and thighs of the suit, ribs of gold connecting the front and back of the decoration as it ran down. Finally, he’d engraved the sharp, zigzag designs of his grieves and shin guards with green rather than leave them as thin black lines. Finally, the weapon holstered to the armor’s hip was neither the Dragon Dagger nor Saba, but a weapon of his own design.

The sword had the head of Black Dragon on the pommel, the figure being plated in silver to match the rest of the hilt which was just the same as Saba’s only with the Dragon Dagger’s valve buttons. The handguard started like Saba’s as well, the only noticeable differences being the presence of the Dragon Dagger’s mouthpiece and leadpipe that worked its way around the Drakkon power coin. The blade extended from there, the Dragon Dagger’s instrument/blade combo making up the backbone that the base of Saba’s blade would usually occupy while Kyle’s favorite addition to the sword extended far past that. In place of Saba’s short, broad blade was a longer, more slender blade that ended with a serrated edge to mirror the curved cutting edge. Somehow the athlete had found a way to worm the Sword of Darkness into the design, and the young man was actually quite pleased with his own cleverness.

The armor was a bit bulky but sleek and elegant and a great source of pride for the student, even more so than the wall of medals, trophies, and certificates that sat plastered to one side of his room. Kyle gave a huff and rolled his eyes, looking back to his cosplay, thoughts beginning to roll through his head. “...There’s no way in hell that Displacer will pass me up _this_ time,” he murmured to himself… only to start as the loud sound of glass shattering downstairs echoed through the walls.

The sound of raised voices reached him from the first floor of the house and the young man darted out of his chair, advanced tickets to the convention completely forgotten. Kyle ran down the hall to the staircase, quickly taking a few steps down before jumping up and kicking off the wall, throwing himself over the railing. He dropped to the first floor and ignored the jar in his legs as he got up and cannoned into the kitchen where he found his mother and sister cowering in a corner while his father screamed at shouted at them, picking up whatever he could get his hands on and throwing it at the pair.

The athlete’s eyes widened. “Hey!” He shouted, running forward and grabbing hold of his father’s arm, drawing the angry man’s eyes onto him. “What’s going on? What’s happening on down here?”

Mr. Fawkes’s eyes narrowed and he jerked his arm out of Kyle’s hand, turning to completely face him. “These _bitches_ ,” the man began, taking a step forward while pointing behind him to his wife and daughter as they continued to cower. “Were plannin’ to kill me! All the pills they got the doctors to give me, all this time in the kitchen _alone!_?I even caught one of 'em with a knife saying how they were gonna cut me up!” The man turned his eyes on his wife and daughter, a growl rumbling up into his throat. “Well… I’ll show them….” The man started forward once more, flipping chairs out of his way as Kyle’s mother and sister’s eyes widened in fear.

“Dad! Dad!” Kyle cried out, once more rushing forward to put a hand on his old man’s shoulder. “They were just cooking dinner! Just- damn it!- Dad, just calm down!” The older man froze in place and slowly turned to face his son, eyes narrowed.

“...You’re in on it,” Mr. Fawkes growled, teeth gritting together.

Kyle slowly pulled his arm back and put his hands up passively. “No, dad,” he said calmly. “Nobody’s in on anything, and no one wants to hurt you…. Dad, I need you to tell me, did you take your me-” The young man was cut off as a blur of motion cracked into his cheekbone, his father’s fist knocking him back into the counter.

“Dad what the he-” Was all the young man got out before his eyes raised to see his father rushing at him, a wild look in his eyes. Kyle only just managed to get his arms up and cover his face as Mr. Fawkes laid into him, throwing angry, misguided punches at the college student. Kyle was forced back into the counter again, the sharp pain in his back making him arch and open up his defenses just enough to let his old man get in. Mr. Fawkes’ fist slipped through his arms and slammed into his temple, knocking stars into his vision as Kyle felt his legs give ever so slightly. Sensing the moment of weakness, the older man pushed Kyle’s arms apart and tackled him, pressing his full body weight into his son as his big hands wrapped around Kyle’s throat.

The young man’s eyes widened and his hands came up, scrambling to rip off his father’s hands, the air to and from his lungs becoming less and less. Choking noises gurgled their way out of his throat as he thrashed, eyes darting from one side to the other, searching for anything he could use. Desperate, Kyle turned his eyes back on his father and pulled his fist back, slamming his knuckles into the side of Mr. Fawkes’ face only to receive another growl as the older man took one of his hands from his throat.

The two struggled against each other until Mr. Fawkes had a grip on his son’s hand, violently smashing it into the edge of the kitchen counter. Several loud cracks and snaps ripped through the air as Kyle let out pain-filled, choking cries. The older man ceased trying to crush the boy’s hand and returned his second hand to Kyle’s throat, squeezing even more powerfully than before, pushing forward with all of his body weight. Kyle’s eyes widened until they were practically bulging, his face turning a bright red that was swiftly changing as well. The young man threw his eyes around once more. A metallic twinkle caught his attention and without thinking, Kyle snatched the knife from the countertop… and plunged it into the side of his father’s throat.

The older man’s eyes widened in surprise as blood began to spray from his wound, coating the counter and Kyle in the red life-blood as he stepped back. He gave a strangled, gurgling cry as he reached up and clawed out the knife before his eyes rolled up into the back of his head. He slumped to the ground, hitting his knees before his body slumped back, a dark pool of blood growing out around his body.

Kyle’s wide frightened eyes watched as the life drained from his father, his breath heaving in his chest. His head jerked to look at his mother and sister, both of which were staring at him. The woman started when she caught his gaze, her arm protectively pushing Kira behind her. Kyle felt his eyes screw up in confusion, Mrs. Fawkes’ own gaze narrowing in response. Her eyes darted to the side before coming back to stare at him. The young man slowly looked away from his mother to see what it was she had glanced at. On the table, not five feet between them was the kitchen phone. Kyle’s face once more screwed up in confusion before his eyes widened in realization and he jerked back to look at his mother.

“Mom, no, wait-” But his plea came too late. Mrs. Fawkes’ was already at the phone, the fated three-digit number already dialed as she pressed the receiver to her ear.

“This is Dolores Fawkes,” the woman said into the device. “My son has just stabbed my husband.” Kyle’s eyes widened further and he stepped back. He looked between Mrs. Fawkes and his sister, seeing the devil in one and the fear in the other. With a quick motion, he looked to his father’s corpse before starting as his mother spoke again.

“The address is 367 Blane Avenue,” Mrs. Fawkes said, Kyle’s gaze searching her own… before he ran. “HE’S RUNNING, HE’S GETTING AWAY!” His mother’s shrill scream followed him as he streaked through the house. He turned to the side a bit, lowering his shoulder before he careened full speed into the front door, the flimsy door handle lock giving way with a splintering of wood. The sound of glass shattering followed him as he dashed off down the street, darting to the side and running behind a house as the sound of sirens filled the air, red and blue lights blinding the sky from down the street.

The receiver ran through the backyard of the home, jumping and pulling himself over the wooden fence behind it and into the next yard. He ran to the other side and jumped the fence again, taking off across another street, this time running up the road, opposite the direction of the sirens. After a few minutes, he once again cut across the street and through another yard, jumping another backyard fence twice over before ending in an alleyway. He turned again and doubled back for the second time.

Kyle ran and ran and ran, twisting and turning through the neighborhood he had grown up in. He even passed by the house his friend James had moved into when they were only eight or nine. God, had it really been so long since those days? When he was happy before his father got sick. The young man slowly ground to a halt, too exhausted to continue, putting a hand out to hold himself up on a wooden fence. He doubled over and gasped for breath for several moments before letting his arm give out. His shoulder hit the fence and he slid down to sit on the ground, a tired sigh escaping his lips.

He continued to heave for breath, staring at his shaking hands hanging off his knees, one badly bruised and swelling to the extreme. He hissed in pain and clenched his eyes shut as the adrenaline racing through his system began to die down. “Damn, kid, you look like you’ve seen hell.”

Kyle’s eyes shot up from where he sat to see a man leaning against the opposite fence, staring at him. The young man immediately went to jump to his feet only to wince and stagger as pain lanced through his ankle. He looked down to see his ankle swelling, too, probably twisted sometime during his mad run through the suburbs. “I honestly wouldn't do that if I were you.” The young football star looked up once more in time to see the man push himself to a standing position and walk forward. The man was clearly older with jet black hair streaked with silver, a scraggly goatee matching it on his chin. Purple eyes glinted at him amidst the scared face. A black trench coat trailed to the ground and covered his torso, only allowing the black cargo pants and boots to show through. Not to mention the large, gleaming sword handle resting over his shoulder.

“Just take a seat and relax, kid,” the man said, stopping next to Kyle and leaning against the fence only to slide down into a sitting position. “No need to be all worked up.”

Kyle simply stared at the stranger for a long minute before he finally sat back down. They sat in silence for several moments before the older man spoke up again.

“You really stepped into some deep shit tonight, kid,” he said, unzipping his coat and reaching inside. “No doubt the state’s coming after you, and whether you're found innocent or not, you'll never look at yourself the same again.” The man paused and drew out a cigarette and lighter, putting the white filter to his lips before lighting it. “And with injuries like those, it's going to be hard to keep playing sports, even if they heal correctly.”

The athlete simply stared, horrified at the man as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth and blew out a cloud of smoke. The young man opened his mouth to speak the question coming to his mind. “I’m no psychic if that’s what you’re about to ask.” Kyle snapped his mouth closed as the man glanced at him from the corner of his eye and gave a little chuckle before taking another drag from his cigarette. “Nope, not psychic at all. Just done this too many times before.”

Kyle’s eyes screwed up in confusion. “Done wha-”

“Sit in the dark with some kid, seeming to know all the answers when really,” the man interrupted, pausing to turn his full gaze on the young adult next to him. “All I know is what you want right now. Everything else is just the evidence that supports that fact.”

“Supports _what_ fact?” Kyle questioned hotly, clearly beginning to become irritated by the man’s confusing words. The stranger only gave a little grin at that and turned away before taking yet another drag, the embers and ash at the end flaring.

The man took the cigarette from his lips much more slowly this time around, letting the smoke stream from his open mouth. “The fact that you’ve wanted to leave for over a year now,” he said, starting to stand to his feet. “And now… you need to.”

The young man stared up and the coated figure, eyes burning with questions. “How… how did you know that?” He asked, wobbly starting to get up as well. “If you’re not psychic and you know that… then what the hell are you?” The stranger turned his intense purple gaze onto the college athlete, Kyle only just now noticing how the irises shifted like deep oceans.

“A Displacer.” The words were simple enough, but the power that lanced through them was enough to stagger the young man. “And I’m here to give you what you want.”

Kyle stared up at him, hand planted firmly against the fence behind him to keep him standing. “You’re… a Displacer?” The young man questioned, the void-dweller nodding in response.

“I’ve been watching you,” the Displacer said, reaching up and lifting the sword belt over his head until he held the sheathed blade in his hand. “Ever since that day you first confronted that other Displacer… and now I’m glad I did.” The black haired being let his eyes fall to the sword in his hand before he drew the blade out, Kyle’s eyes staring at the sparkling edge. He flinched as the being twisted the sword until the handle was held out to him.

“Hold this for me for a second, kid,” the void-dweller said, the young man doing as he was bid. The Displacer raised the sheath and overturned it, holding one hand underneath the opening of the scabbard, shaking it a few times until something fell into his hand. Kyle blinked as he looked closer, the Displacer moving the sheath away to show off the morpher the athlete had made for his cosplay, the dark green buckle nestling the golden morpher in its embrace, the colored patterns shining green on the top half and white on the bottom, the Drakkon power coin sitting proudly in the center.

“How did you…?” The young man trailed off, taking the morpher as the Displacer held the device out to him. The coin in the center sparked with power as it came into contact with his hand, white and green electricity running over it.

The void-dweller seemed to grin a bit brighter at that. “It’s not the same one as the you made,” he explained, nodding towards the device. “Why don’t you give it a shot?”

Kyle’s eyes shot from the morpher in his hand to the being before him in surprise. “You’re serious?” the college student questioned, handing the Displacer’s sword back to him as he reached for it.

“Very,” the being said, putting his sword away and slipping the strap back over his head. “But know this. If you take this step now, there is no going back. You will be Displaced and once that happens, there is no coming back.”

The young man stared up at the Displacer for a few moments. “...It’s like you said,” Kyle said, taking the power buckle from its holder and putting the casing to his back where it attached itself to his belt. “There’s nothing else for me here.” He flipped the handle out and held it tightly in his right hand so the power coin was upside down before bringing it up to his left shoulder. “It’s morphin’ time!” He windmilled his arms until the power buckle was at his waist, left across his body before he threw both hands forward, twisting his right fist right side up before twisting his wrist so the power coin was right side up, his left hand held behind it with fingers spread out.

Green and white electricity shot from the morpher as the top and bottom flared out. “Drakkon Power!” The young man cried before the morpher turned into energy and slammed into the ground as he threw his arms down, the flash of energy it produced leaving Kyle in the Drakkon armor, a ghost of the helmet appearing to face him before it flared with energy and materialized on his head.

The morphing sequence was over in the blink of an eye, Kyle standing in the alleyway in the armor of Lord Drakkon. The young man clenched his fist and unclenched it, raising the gloved appendage to his visor. “This is…”

“Incredible.” The red visor turned to look towards the Displacer, who had only sat back and watched the spectacle with crossed arms. The void-dweller uncrossed his arms and took a few steps forwards. “...You remember what I said, don’t you?”

Lines of energy covered the helmet before it faded away from Kyle’s head. “I do,” the young man answered, reaching a hand out as the being stopped in front of him before taking his hand. “Does that mean….?”

“The deal is done,” the Displacer confirmed with a nod, taking his hand back from the shake. “And it is time for you to be on your way.” Kyle nodded and stepped back, ready for what was to come. However, as the Displacer raised his fingers to snap them together, the man’s eyes suddenly widened.

“Wait!” The void-dweller paused at the young man’s cry, lowering his hand a little. “I… don’t even know your name.”

The Displacer stared at him for a long while before a grin grew on his face and he closed his eyes and shook his head in amusement. “I am called Soldier,” the Displacer answered, opening his shifting purple eyes before lifting his fingers once more. “And you, Kyle Fawkes, have a ride to catch.” With that, Soldier finally snapped his fingers and a portal opened up at the student’s feet. The newly created Displaced looked at the portal before taking a deep breath and steeling his features. He lifted a boot and stepped forward, ready for what was to come.

“KYLE!” The cry jolted the young man’s gaze up in time to see Soldier turn towards the shrill shout as well. What the Displacer’s move revealed was a little girl at the end of the alleyway, eyes puffy and red while tear stains ran down her face.

The armored ranger stared at the little girl, eyes confused. “...Kira?” He questioned before he adjusted his step to go over the portal… only for the boundary of the dimensional gap to widen and his boot to slip through empty space. The man’s eyes widened in surprise, falling forward as he reached a hand out. “Kira!” He shouted as he began to fall, everything seeming to slow down as Soldier began to turn towards him and his sister started to run towards them.

He watched as the Displacer’s eyes widened, the void-dweller starting to reach his hand out and drop to his knees to catch the Displaced, all the while Kira growing closer. Kyle looked up at Soldier, desperately reaching his hand out with pleading eyes to grab hold of the lifeline the being was holding out to him. Their hands grew closer and closer… until their fingertips brushed against each other and time returned to normal. Kyle let out a yell as he fell, feeling his body tumble through the air so he could see out of the portal. His sister’s cry of, “Kyle!” followed him as he descended, vision fading away as he saw the girl try to jump after him only to be stopped by Soldier as the portal began to close….


	2. Nightmares

“So, what do you say?” Drakkon moved his eyes back to stare at the lanky Displacer in front of him, the being holding out his hand. The ranger was quiet for several moments before he let out a heavy sigh, raising his head and letting his hand fall back to the arm of his throne.

“You’re asking me to get involved in a fight that I have no business being in,” the armored man answered, voice bored. “I have kept to myself when it comes to other Displaced and my empire has prospered because of it. Now, you come into my home, stand in front of _my_ throne, and ask me to go to war with them?”

“And why wouldn’t I?” The shifty Displacer questioned, boldly taking a step forward. “You’ve proven your power here in this universe. With an ally such as you, there would be no war, just a swift knife to cut off a few irritating strings.” The Lord grit his teeth together inside his helmet, his fingers clenching into a fist at the void-dweller’s brazenness. “Now, before you go and blow a gasket, I do have something to offer in return.”

Drakkon grew silent as he leaned back against his throne, relaxing ever so slightly. “Well…,” he murmured, his finger uncurling to tap against the arm of his chair. “I’m listening.”

The Displacer’s face lit up in a smile….

* * *

Kyle could feel himself falling, but that was all his senses could tell him. There was no wind rushing by, nothing for his eyes to see or nose to smell. He was falling through an empty, black void… and he didn’t know how long he’d been falling for. And the only thing he had left to keep him occupied during his seemingly endless fall was the image of Soldier holding back his little sister as she tried to jump in after him. He would’ve let out a sigh if he didn’t think he wouldn’t get his breath back. _This is just great… Guess what they say about being careful what you wish for is-_

Before the young man could finishhis thought, though, he felt something familiar come over him. The feeling of gravity tugging at his back. He looked over his shoulder, his eyes widening as white light erupted behind him. This time he actually felt like he was falling, being pulled toward the light. A gasp escaped his lips as his eyes turned back to the void, hand reaching up for the Void that he suddenly felt a greater attraction to than the imminent unknown that had opened up behind him. But no matter how he tried to crawl his way back into the dark he’d grown accustomed to. Try as he might though, the light enveloped him and his world turned blinding.

The next thing he felt was the hard surface of stone colliding with his back, knocking the wind from his lungs as he rolled across the ground. He stayed where he was for several moments, gasping for oxygen to refill his lungs. The moments passed on without any change, Kyle slowly getting his breath back before he started to push himself up. He looked around to take in his surroundings, finding he was in some sort of throne room that had been torn apart. Two thrones, one backed by a banner with images of the sun, the other by the moon, sat at the back of the ruined room, rocks and rubble scattered around the floor. He leaned back and put his back to a particularly large section of tiled roof, wincing slightly at the soreness. “...Wonder what happened to this place...” he muttered just the sound of an explosion shook the room and jerked his attention up toward the ceiling just as a crash opened up another hole in the ceiling. More debris rained down, the young man pulling his legs in and covering his face, the obstruction only just allowing him to spot something white falling alongside the stone.

As the dust settled, Kyle dropped his arms and looked towards the rubble that had come to a rest, his breath catching in his throat as he caught sight of the white that had grabbed his attention. It was a woman in a pure white dress that stood out starkly against her sun-tanned skin. But the sleeveless dress trimmed in gold or the pure pink hair wasn’t what caught his attention the most. No, that honor went to the enormous and beautiful wings that sprouted from her shoulders, melding perfectly with her back. The man took a moment to collect himself before he noticed that the woman wasn’t moving, or even seemed to be breathing for that matter.

Swallowing the bile rising in his throat, Kyle started to crawl forward towards the unmoving body. He stopped just short of the winged woman, holding his breath as his eyes searched her. After a moment, a soft shudder ran through her as her shoulders moved ever so slightly, Kyle releasing his breath in response. “Thank god,” he muttered before he reached out and put a hand on her arm and shook her as gently as he could. “Hey… hey, are you okay? C’mon, wake up or somethin’.” A small groan emanated from the stranger in response to his, her hand scraping across the ground close to her head.

The young man let out a sigh of relief before that relief was ripped away from him as a wicked laugh sent chills up and down his spine. He threw a look over his shoulder, immediately wishing he hadn’t as his eyes widened at the new figure that had appeared. Just like the first, the new arrival was a tall, slender woman, but all affinity to humanity stopped there as a glossy, pitch black substance covered her from head to toe alongside silver-blue armor. Her slitted turquoise eyes stared down at him, a fanged smile sending another wave of shivers up his back. Slowly, the monster carried herself down to the floor on jet black wings, the cyan gemstone jutting from her forehead shimmering dangerously as her boots met the ground.

“And here I thought all of the guards had run off,” the woman said, her two-toned voice doing nothing to settle the man’s nerves. “What a brave little Earthling.” A cruel smile curled up her face as the gem on her head flared. Kyle raised a hand to cover his eyes as a flash lit up the room. When he looked back, a wicked-looking broadsword sat in the woman’s hand, the base of the blade twisting for several inches before straightening out into the main length. “Too bad you’ve come too late. The day will die with my dear sister, and you along with them.”

The serpent-eyed lady took a step forward, Kyle taking a step back in response only for his foot to brush against something. He looked down to see the woman in white still laying behind him. Every circuit in his mind froze as he looked down at the beaten woman, and after a moment, his scarred, shaking hands balled into fists and lowered to his sides. He looked up at the smiling face the stood opposite of him, eyes narrowing as her confident smirk twitched. “It is too bad,” he muttered, reaching behind his back where he felt the power buckle. “Too bad I didn’t do this sooner.” He pulled the morpher out and threw his arm to the side. “It’s morphin’ time!” He threw his arm up to his shoulder before punching out, his empty hand flaring out behind the upside down buckle before he twisted his hand right side up. “Drakkon power!” The top and bottom of the morpher flared open, the power buckle turning to energy and striking the floor in an explosion that blinded the room.

The dark woman covered her eyes for a moment, opening her eyes to find Kyle suited up in his armor. “What kind of magic is this?” The woman growled through gritted teeth as she raised her sword and the man in front of her drew out his own curved sword.

“Not magic,” he answered through his helmet as he lowered his stance and raised his own blade. “But that doesn’t mean it hurts any less!” With that, he rushed forward, and the first thing he noticed was that was much faster. Being the running back had made sure he could always move quickly, but now, with the power running through him, he could _move!_ Kyle swung his sword horizontally to clash with his opponent’s blade as she parried the blow.

The winged-woman snarled in response, her blade sparking against his as she pulled it up, pushing his away. She rotated the swing and brought it back down, the ranger stepping back and leaning out of the way, spinning as the sword cut through the air in front of him. He twisted and once again brought up his blade, using his momentum for another horizontal slash. The dark being threw her gaze behind her, quickly pivoting and bringing her sword up to stop his, not waiting for the sparks to hit the ground as she pushed her blade up, catching his sword with her guard and tossing it up before she slashed down again. Kyle had little time to react, twisting his wrists and tugging in his arms to catch her blade on his, more sparks dancing off metal as they struggled against one another.

“How?” Kyle jerked his eyes up, teeth grinding inside his helmet. The corrupted woman snarled down at him, slitted pupils barely a slash in her gaze. “How can an Earthling be strong?”

Kyle grunted as his opponent pushed harder against him forcing him to push back. “Heh, guess us humans are just a tenacious bunch,” he answered with a half-hearted chuckle before he jumped to the side, swords sliding apart. He hit the ground and rolled, turning and bracing his legs under him as his opponent stumbled from the sudden absence of opposing force. The ranger cannoned his legs, rushing forward and thrusting his blade towards the gap between the woman’s wings. Time slowed and the slitted, cyan eyes of the sorceress moved to look at him over her shoulder, face changing from surprise to rage as she let go of her sword with one hand and started to turn to face him. The gem on her head began to glow and her hand lit up to match, the armored woman completely turned to face the ranger as his arms strived to drive the blade home. A loud boom filled the air and a beam of brilliant cyan light slammed into Kyle’s chest, launching him back and slamming him into and through the wall behind him. When the light faded, the young man could feel the heat rising off of his chest piece, the green, and gold shield smoking as pain ached through his back.

The ranger coughed inside his helmet before it lit up and disappeared, allowing him to breathe as he rolled over onto his hands and knees. A crunch drew his attention behind him to see the winged woman stepping up behind him, his sword now occupying her empty hand as rage filled her eyes. “Truly, you are a great nuisance,” she growled out before swiftly kicking him in the side to send him across the hall to slam into the wall again. The young blonde felt the air rush from his lungs, blood filling his mouth as his chin collided with the floor to bite down on his tongue. He gasped for air as struggled to get up, leaving a pool of blood on the floor from his wound. A shadow fell over him and out of instinct alone he jerked out of the way as his opponent drove her blade into the wall where his head had been.

The man primed his body, prepared to roll out of the way to put some space between himself and the dark woman in front of him. As he leaned and started to fire his legs, his own blade whistled through the air and embedded itself in the wall. He pulled his face away from the reflection of his eyes and was once again slammed into the wall as the winged sorceress buried her boot in his chest and pushed him back. “A pest like you should know when to lay down and _die!_ ” She said, driving her metallic boot deeper into his armor to emphasize her words.

Kyle gritted his teeth as pain filled him, his hand raising up to grab her ankle and struggle to relieve some of the pressure. “Never really liked authority,” he joked as he felt something warm run down his chin. This only made the woman’s savage display of sharpened fangs even worse as her snarl deepened. She pushed down harder until the cracks spider webbing the wall spread even further, Kyle sinking deeper into the wall as he felt his armor squeezing him. He pushed desperately against his adversary’s leg until a snap echoed through the hall. “RAAA!!!” The young man screamed in agony as a rib snapped in half in his chest, the dark woman’s snarl turning into a twisted grin.

Metal scraped on stone as the woman pulled the blades from the wall and crossed them over his throat like a pair of scissors. “Sweet nightmares,” the sorceress purred darkly as Kyle felt the swords start to bite into his flesh, looking up into the gleeful cyan eyes. The dark woman’s arms tensed, blood trickling from the cuts that were beginning to claw their way into his skin. Then, like a shot from a canon, a boom filled the air and the dark sorceress’ body folded to the side as a blur of white, gold, and pink rocketed into her and launched her bodily down the hall.

Kyle’s sword clattered to the ground even as a new wave of blood splashed from his neck, his hand flying up to hold his throat. The wounds weren’t deep enough to cut into his arteries or windpipe, but still, they burned with pain as he peeled himself out of the hole he’d been driven into.

“Here.” The young man looked up to see the woman that had been knocked out earlier holding a hand out to him. He reached up and took the offered appendage, groaning a bit in pain as he was hauled to his feet and grabbed his sword on the way up.

“Thanks,” he grunted, stumbling a bit to regain his balance. His gaze looked down the hall where a cloud of dust was only just beginning to settle. “...Who… what is that?”

The woman beside him frowned and followed his gaze. “That… is Nightmare Moon,” she answered. “She plans to cast this world into eternal night… after disposing of me.”

Kyle nodded his head, wincing a bit as more blood seeped out from his wound. “I’d ask what makes you so important but that’d just run down the clock,” he murmured, lifting his blade and grabbing the hilt in both hands. “That said, do you have a game plan?”

“I wouldn’t call this a game,” the winged woman replied, glancing at him as a flash lit up her hand, a rapier appearing there. “However, I do have a plan. It will take some time to get together, though.”

“Okay…,” the Ranger murmured, tensing up as he heard rubble shift down the passageway. “What do you need from me?”

“I’ll need a distraction,” the lady said, taking a step back as the dust settled and a shadow loomed. “And someone to hold her down so I can get a clear shot!” With that, the woman ran back into the room where she’d crashed. Kyle watched over his shoulder as she went before turning back to face Nightmare as she stepped out of the rubble, eyes narrow and glowing with magic.

“Shit,” he muttered before rolling his shoulders and nodding his head for a moment. “Guess it’s back to action.” His helmet rematerialized just in time for him to throw his sword up and stop Nightmare Moon’s blade as she swung it at his throat.

“I’m going to tear your legs off!” She shouted in his face, fangs flashing. “And then I’m going to make you watch me kill that bitch slowly! Only then will you die!”

“You sound pissed,” Kyle grunted, blades still grinding against one another. “Maybe you should take a motherfuckin’ seat!” Planting his feet, he pushed his blade straight up, knocking her sword up. In the same movement, the ranger leaned back and raised a boot before slamming it into her chest. Nightmare rocketed back as shock waves filled the air. Putting his foot back on the floor, he tensed and raced forward, bringing his blade back horizontally and slamming it into his opponent’s as she recovered.

_Can’t give her a second,_ he thought as he drew his blade back and swung it down once more before rolling to the side and once more swinging at her. The winged sorceress twirled her blade expertly and parried his slash, throwing his sword out of her way as she slashed down. Kyle threw his weight backward and rolled back to his feet as the strike cut into the floor. He pushed forward, rushing as he pulled the blade back. Nightmare snarled as he rushed her before her eyes went wide. Reacting quickly, she dodged out of the way, leaving her sword in the ground as the ranger thrust at her, the edge sparking off her chest piece. Planting once more, Kyle spun and slammed his heel into her stomach, tossing her bodily back down the hall.

Nightmare hit a wall and bounced off as rubble crumbled off and followed her. She thumped across the ground and rolled for several paces before coming to a stop. She looked up as the armored form of the ranger started down the hallway, sword blinking in the light. Her eyes widened as a shiver ran through her before her eyes narrowed. The jewel in her forehead lit up and her gaze fell from the man and to her blade down the hall. The sword lit up in her magic and she pulled her eyes back to her nemesis. The blade quivered and wobbled for a moment before jerking out of the stone, hovering up and turning until it pointed at the ranger’s back. The blade shot through the air with a resounding boom, moving faster than most could follow.

The man tilted to the side and shot his hand out, catching the hilt as it passed before spinning it and slamming it point first into the wall beside him. “...I’m getting real tired of this shit,” the ranger said, his hand slipping from the blade as he turned to face her again, red visor gleaming. Nightmare’s eyes widened once again as he stalked towards her, following his progress until he stopped in front of her. “Who was supposed to die here?”

The corrupted woman looked up at him with wide eyes. The man jerked his sword up, prepared to thrust it down only for Nightmare’s horn to flare as she thrust her palm up. The floor around her suddenly glowed and spires of stone launched up to slam into the ranger, carrying him up to slam into the ceiling. Rubble crumbled to the ground before Kyle’s body followed, slamming into the floor in a heap. Nightmare huffed for breath as a bead of sweat trailed down her face. A few moments passed before the winged sorceress got to her feet and started to walk towards her fallen adversary. She stopped on the edge of the pile of debris, hand crossing her body to hold onto a gash in her arm.

“LUNA!” The shout made Nightmare jump and turn to face the speaker, finding the woman in white standing at the end of the hall with six gemstones floating around her, each a different color with six cut into hexagons while the last and largest resembled a six-pointed star. “It’s time to end this!”

“About time.” Nightmare’s eyes widened as the pile behind her exploded, the ranger standing in the debris before wrapping a single arm around her and holding her tight as his other hung at his side. “Whatever you’re gonna do, do it _now!”_

The white woman lit up the gem in her forehead in a golden aura, the gems following suit before light wrapped around the display. The dark sorceress’ watched with a horrified gaze before she snarled and lit her own gem. “I _refuse_ to go down by _our_ power!” She yelled before a blast of dark magic poured out from her focus point and launched towards her opponent. A sad look crossed over the white sorceress’ face before it hardened and she thrust her hands forward and unleashed her own magic, light from her gem joining the beams of the other gems as they focused through the star which unleashed a rainbow-colored beam. The two beams slammed into one another and struggled for only a few moments before the aurora of color overtook its dark counterpart and surged forward.

Nightmare’s pupils shrank as the light rushed towards her before it collided with her and the man behind her, letting out an almost painful cry. Kyle gritted his teeth as his boots strained against the ground, helmet starting to peel away with patches of the rest of his armor. Suddenly, burning filled his mind and he screamed out as shadows seemed to stream from Nightmare. The pain spread through his head, his temples throbbing with each heartbeat. The man searched for an escape from the agony before his arm uncurled from around Nightmare and he dove to the side, out of the beam’s light. The dark sorceress let one last rage and pain-filled cry before the light suddenly cut off and surrounded her, condensing and suddenly shooting up through the roof. As Kyle rolled onto his back, he watched the beam travel up and into the moon before a flash formed a constellation of craters on the silvery surface.

The young man held his breath, waiting for… something. Seconds passed before several thuds drew his attention back down the hall. The woman leaned against the wall, six stone orbs littered at her feet. But what really caught the man’s attention was her hair, more importantly, the fact that it was no longer just pink, but instead had blue, green, and purple added to the collage of color. He stared for a long moment before he rolled over and started to get to his feet. He stumbled a moment before he got his feet under him, arm still hanging limply against his side as he started down the hall.

“You okay?” He asked as he stopped in front of the woman, the sorceress raising her eyes at his question.

A small smile flashed across her face before she answered. “I’m fine,” she replied, pushing off the wall slowly and standing under her own power. “Nothing a little rest won’t fix. Though, the same can’t be said for you.”

Kyle let out a painful breath in agreement as his armor finally dematerialized and left him in his street clothes. Suddenly, the man felt the strength leave him and began to fall forward only to be got by the shoulders by the woman in front of him. “I’ve got you….” Was the last thing he heard as black fog rushed to meet his conscious mind….

* * *

_The streets of Kyle’s neighborhood stretched out before him, fog and mist turning the scene gray and dreary as he walked forward. He paid the shadows dancing in the corners of his vision no mind as he kept going forward, never faster and never slower. When he finally came to a stop, his nose almost brushed the elaborate glass that took up the center of a door. The door to his home. Without a second thought, the young man brought up his hand and turned the handle, pushing the door open as he stepped into the living room. He let the door swing on its hinges as he walked further into the house, ignoring the dark figure that darted down the hall to his right. He made his way to the kitchen and dining room, looking around at the pristine condition of the area._

_Something creaked behind him and he turned his head to look up the stairs, a shadowy wisp shooting around the corner and just out of his sight. After a moment, he looked back to the kitchen and was yanked off his feet as something grabbed his throat. Kyle’s eyes widened at the bastardized vision of his father, blood covering most of his side as he was dragged backward and slammed into the living room’s coffee table. The pair struggled for several moments, Kyle kicking, punching, and scratching at anything within his reach as the older man continued to push down on his windpipe. Something flickered at the edge of his vision and Kyle’s hand shot out, grabbing and yanking his sword into sight before plunging it deep into his father's collarbone._

_The apparition’s eyes rolled into the back of its head as dark blood pooled out from the new wound before Kyle kicked the dead weight off of him, his sword coming loose with a sickening squelch. The young man huffed for oxygen, his hand coming up to his throat where he met something wet, warm, and sticky. He brought his hand up to find blood staining his flesh. A scratchy, scraping noise that had been in the background, just out of acknowledgeable range, suddenly started to grow louder and louder, Kyle turning in place with wide eyes as he searched for the source. He spun and spun and spun and still found nothing as the sounds grew closer and closer, threatening to crush in and strangle him. The scratching grew to a crescendo, the man stopping with terror-filled eyes, bracing his footing and grabbing his blade with both hands only for the sounds to stop. All was quiet. Nothing stirred at the edges of his vision and nothing drew the quirk of his ear until a single, solitary creak echoed behind him._

_Kyle whipped around and raised his blade with a roar before driving it down only to stop mid-swing just before the edge could bite into the mop of golden blonde and dark chocolate brown. The young man lifted the blade up and away, taking in the small frame, bright green eyes and slightly suntanned. His eyes washed over the form of his little sister as she stared straight ahead, seeming to look no further than his stomach. Kyle swallowed the bile forming in his throat before starting to stretch out a hand. “Kir-”_

_The girl’s jaw seemed to unhinge as a demonic scream ripped its way out of her throat, black suddenly filling her eyes as black liquid poured from the sockets and dripped from her lips. The scratching returned in full force as something pounded behind the man. Kyle swung to look behind him as black rushed to meet him._

Kyle sat up quickly, his labored breathing filling the air as cold sweat poured from his brow. He lifted a shaky hand and wiped at his forehead before the salty liquid could drip into his eyes. As his heartbeat began to return to normal, dull pain started to throb in his chest and unused arm. Grimacing in pain, the young man began to lean back until his head met the soft pillow it had been resting on before. Slowly, and being sure only move his neck, the blonde took in his surroundings to find himself in.

Multiple beds lined the white walls on each side, wooden frames accompanied by matching side tables. Windows sat in the wall after every other bed, iron candle sconces hanging off the wall at equal intervals. At the end of the room was a table and a few cabinets, one filled with medical supplies and the other with extra blankets and pillows. The rest of the room was mostly barren except for the single set of double doors that made up the only entrance or exit to the room. The man let out a sigh before turning his head and looking down at his suspended and heavily bandaged arm. His gaze shifted to his chest where he could partially see bandages covering his bare chest, and that’s when a thought rushed through his mind that made his eyes widen.

“Please be on, please be on…,” he muttered under his breath as he slowly lifted the blanket covering him. Bandages ran from the center of his torso all the way up to just under his armpits, but, and most importantly, his jeans were still intact and on. At least, as intact as the ragged holes in the knees would allow. He let out a sigh and let the blanket fall back down. “Thank god….”

A creak drew his attention back down the long room where the door opened. As he watched, the woman in white walked in followed by a blonde man in mostly black attire that consisted of slacks, a vest, a western bow tie, and a knee length coat with red trim on the inside. The only contrast to the black was the stark white dress shirt… oh, and his dark blue skin. “Good to see that you’re awake,” the woman said with a small smile as Kyle watched her and her companion approach with wide eyes. “You gave us quite the fright after you fainted.”

“Quite,” the male added, drawing the young man’s attention to him with a heavy English accent. Now that he was closer, Kyle could make out the gray-green of his eyes and the strange twinkle he saw there. “We thought you might have sustained a head injury as well.”

“Lucky me, then,” Kyle muttered, lifting a hand and rubbing his head once more before looking up at the rainbow-haired woman, suddenly noticing her height compared to her companion. “Thanks for making sure I didn’t end up with that head injury by the way.”

“You are quite welcome,” she replied, giving a small nod of her head before bringing her eyes back up. “However, I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” This time, she gave a curtsy before straightening up and putting a hand to her chest. “I am Princess Celestia and this is the Father that runs the hospital, Peace Time.”

The blonde man gave a little chuckle before giving a light-hearted smile. “Please, just Father Time will do,” he said before gesturing towards his bedridden patient. “And what of you?”

The athlete stared for a moment, blinking at the information he’d been fed.” Um, Kyle Fawkes,” he eventually answered. “No fancy title or position, just… an ordinary human.”

Celestia gave a confused look. “A human?” She questioned, sharing a brief look at Father Time. “Forgive me, but we’ve never heard of a human.”

It was Kyle’s turn to look confused. “But Nightmare kept calling me an Earthling,” he said, confusion clearly worming through him.

“Yes,” Time said, stepping forward and lifting a finger. “An Earthling Pone.”

“Po… ne…?” The young man questioned, letting the word roll around on his tongue.

A short chuckle brought Celestia and Kyle’s confused looks to the doctor. “It seems you’ve stumbled upon someone not from our world, Princess,” he said before going over to the bedside table and opened the drawer, pulling out several sheets that the young man recognized as x-rays. Old, blurry, and not nearly as telling as modern x-rays, but still they got the job done. “If you take a look here,” Time held up the x-ray of Kyle’s arm, “you can see that the bones are far more slender than pone structures. When I first saw this, I simply thought of it as a skeletal disorder, but upon further inspection,” he took out a picture of the man’s rib cage, displaying three broken ribs, “our patient here seems to have only ten sets of ribs that are more spread out compared to the more compact rib cage of twelve that pones possess.”

Father Time paused and took the moment to let the information sink in as he put away the x-rays. “Either young Kyle here as extensive skeletal deformities,” he said, turning back around. “Or he is, in fact, an alien to this world.”

“That would explain his strange armor,” Celestia murmured, causing Kyle’s eyes to widen.

The young man sat up quickly, ignoring the pain that shot through him and reached his good arm around to the back of his waist, finding it bare of his power buckle. “Where is it?” He asked frantically, hand searching his lower back.

“Calmly, Mr. Fawkes,” Father Time said reassuringly, reaching under the table and bringing out the man’s white t-shirt and the dark green buckle that held his morpher. “Your effects have been well taken care of.”

The young man hardly let the doctor finish before he swiped his morpher from the pone’s hand and pulled it close to his chest, letting out a long, stressed breath. Celestia and Father Time shared a look at this, turning curious and worried gazes on their ward. “That buckle is quite important to you,” Time observed as Kyle took a moment to look the item over.

The patient was quiet for a moment before he answered. “It’s the source of my power,” he said quietly, hand squeezing the device until his knuckles were white. “I had to give up everything to get it….”

The pair of pone’s shared one final look before Celestia looked the young man an apologetic look. “I’m sorry,” she said gently, taking a step forward and putting a hand on the side of the bed. “I’m afraid we don’t know what you mean.”

Kyle looked up at the princess, his eyes searching the sympathetic gaze before he let out a small sigh and looked back to his morpher. “What it means,” he answered quietly, letting his hand fall to his lap with the buckle falling face down. “Is that I made the worst mistake of my life.” He went quiet again as his hand met his face. “My life wasn’t all that hard back home, I realize that now. Even with my father’s illness and my mother’s psychosis, it wasn’t that bad. I spent an entire year, one whole god damn year, distancing myself from them all for some stupid game. A game I didn’t know anything about. Now, I’m stranded here, three broken ribs and a broken arm, and my sister, my little sister that’s barely older than eleven, is stuck with a woman who can’t even tell her left shoe from a mouse half the time.” He stopped and took a shaky breath, letting his hand fall to his lap and turn the morpher back over.

The man’s eyes suddenly narrowed as the power coin glinted back at him. With a low growl, he ripped the morpher from the sheets and threw it across the room.The pones flinched as the device crashed into the and clattered away, a dead silence falling on the trio for several long moments. Kyle stared down at his lap, fist clenched as he grit his teeth, refusing to let the tears building in his eyes to fall. It wasn’t long, though, before movement in his peripherals caught his attention. He watched as the curly-maned pone walked over to the morpher, stooping down to pick up with a short grunt.

“Some are born great,” the Father began, straightening back and turning to face them again. “Some achieve greatness.” Father Time made his way back over to them, stopping at Kyle’s other side. “And some have greatness thrust upon them.” He held the morpher out to the young man as the ranger stared up at him with his mouth slightly agape as if he couldn’t find his words. Slowly, his eyes drifted back down to the morpher, and, after a moment's hesitance, reached his hand out to take it back. Father Time gave a gentle smile and put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Choice brought you here, and you will find a way to make that choice great. However, know this. You are never alone here. No matter what you need, whatever it is that may trouble you, the princess and I will be here to help you. And I promise that we will do everything we can to get you home in the meantime.”

Kyle looked up at the smiling pone for a long moment before his gaze turned to Celestia, the monarch flashing him her own little smile. The ex-athlete let out a small breath of laughter and looked down at the morpher in his hand, giving a small nod. “Thank you,” he said, looking back up at each of them with his own smile. “I promise I’ll try my best to do what I was sent here to do.”

“And what is that?” The solar princess questioned, a light tone in her voice as she looked down at her new ward.

Kyle smirked and lifted his morpher with a click of the device. “To protect those that can’t protect themselves.”


End file.
